Sunday, February 26, 2012

Flower vendors, candy shops and card makers have made
a kill this week.

I watched the insanity of 14th February
this year with disdain – the annual day of love(when male machismo is weathered
and testosterone deep-frozen) has been over-commercialised.

Heavy pedestrian traffic(garbed in reds in stark
contrast with their complexions) clogged the streets with love packages and
cloying bouquets.

This day I had a date(a new catch) at one of the
cities cosiest restaurants. You should have seen me, a whole priest, carrying a
bouquet of roses just to flow with the expectations(I had already done my
calculations – the payment was going to be hundredfold the whole night)) for
some lady I had met two days before(something I knew I was not supposed to be
doing).

So, imagine my disappointment when Shiri(she’s
Hembrew) told me that it was fantastic dining with me, that she had enjoyed it
and she hoped to see more of me. Gosh! I cursed the sensless devil for wasting
my precious time(no money. The bitch was paying). I wondered whether those
intelligent probing eyes of hers had seen through me and realized how lusty I
was(no heartstrings for her).

Love with five-star treatment is neither a necessity
nor a meaningful expression of love on Valentine’s Day without some action
between the sheets.

But trust me, it won’t be long before I sweet-talk her
out of her knickers…